Chris

Good overview of the historical development of Latin styles within the United States. The text is organized by decade, and a good deal of it is dedicated to Latin jazz; I found the book particularly effective at filling in some gaps in my knowledge of that style. The library copy I read was the original edition, which concludes with the 1970s. While an update would obviously be appreciated, I can't blame the author for a lack of precognition when writing this edition. To his credit, he even correctly foretold that salsa music would not break into the mainstream market. A certain degree of moralizing is appropriate in this sort of text, and Roberts rightfully comes out swinging against the showtune “Mañana (Is Soon Enough for Me),” yet he treats the even more heinous “All Dressed Up, S*** and Spanish” with a disconcertingly neutral tone—was he unaware of the racial slur? Desi Arnaz features prominently in the narrative, yet his family's tumultuous relationship with the music that made him famous goes overlooked. Roberts also makes the glaring error of claiming in both the main text and the glossary that the Cuban tres has nine strings (it has six strings in three courses). The Latin Tinge can be appreciated for what it is, an introduction. More reading is certainly needed to fill in the music's history in Latin America, and the music's history in the United States post-1980.

Lo que más me fascina de este libro son las entrevistas, las cuales forman la mayoría del texto. Ramos ha entrevistado a muchas figuras interesantes de diferentes países, y las entrevistas de su larga carrera como periodista le ofrecen al lector un mejor entendimiento de la política, especialmente las complejidades de la política en Latinoamérica. Y me gusta que Ramos no tema criticar a cualquier político.

Sin embargo, el capítulo introductorio no me gustó. Estoy de acuerdo que hay que tomar partido, que uno no puede quedarse neutral cuando hay una injusticia. Pero Ramos también nos dice que la ideología ya no importa, que lo que ahora importa es la rebeldía, y define esa palabra de una manera tan difusa que se puede aplicar a personas tan distintas como Barack Obama y el Subcomandante Marcos. Es más, al decirnos que la ideología no importa, Ramos se queda neutral (justo como él dice que uno no debe) e indirectamente apoya a las estructuras de poder existentes. Desafortunadamente el libro entero está lleno de errores tipográficos.

Lee este libro para aprender más sobre la política y sobre los entrevistados, no necesariamente para aprender más sobre la filosofía de Ramos.

An absolutely astounding work of music history. The sheer amount of research put into this volume boggles the mind. Sublette goes to great lengths to place the music of Cuba into proper context. This isn't just music history; it's world history, linguistic history, religious history, political history. I am a lover of Latin music with a degree in music performance, and this book was still full of revelations. Reading Cuba and Its Music will illuminate the true extent to which the music of one island shaped the traditions of an entire continent. The tone is serious, but with an appropriate amount of room for humor and without getting lost in academic technicalities. If I had any criticisms of the book, they would be that I wished it included even more musical analysis—Sublette writes for the general reader—and that towards the end of the book, as more historical records become available to describe the times in question, the number of names grows a bit dizzying.The prospective reader should note that this book ends with Batista's re-ascension to power in 1952. Post-1952 developments in Cuban music are not discussed. Throughout the text Sublette references a second volume discussing Cuban music from 1952 to the present day, but as of the time of this review, 17 years after the publication of the first volume, the second has never been released. A shame, because I would love to read what Sublette has to say about more contemporary Cuban music.Coincidentally, Cuba and Its Music serves as the perfect antidote to [b:Music: A Subversive History 43886050 Music A Subversive History Ted Gioia https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1550709377l/43886050.SY75.jpg 68280425], which mentions some Afro-Latin genres but does not use the word “Cuba” once. Sublette does for Cuban music what Gioia couldn't quite accomplish for the music of the whole world.In my opinion, one of the greatest books I have ever read.

Un texto sólido agobiado por una traducción pésima e inconsistente que está llena de errores tipográficos. Si las matices de la obra de Puente te interesan, lee este libro, que consta no sólo de detalles biográficos sino también de un análisis cultural y musical del trabajo de Puente, además de varias entrevistas. Pero busca la versión original en inglés si la puedes entender.

Schwartz's biography of one of America's all-time greatest songsmiths offers insight into elements of Cole Porter's life with which one might not be familiar just from knowing his work. Highlights include the way that his Southern rich-kid upbringing contrasted with that of other composers of the same vein, the sometimes disdainful way that Cole comported himself with others, and the extent to which his creative output was shaped by the circumstances he faced (for instance, Schwartz explains how the tune “Night and Day” was written to accommodate Fred Astaire's lackluster vocal capabilities). Schwartz strikes an agreeable balance between discussion of Porter's personal life and his artistic endeavors, something that I imagine is difficult to achieve when biographizing an artist. Survivorship bias might lead one to believe that all of Porter's output was great, but Schwartz diligently explains all of Porter's duds, too.

The book is not without its faults; Schwartz's voluminous vocabulary sometimes impedes understanding rather than enhancing it, though I suppose it's only natural that a book about such an accomplished lyricist would employ such an ample lexicon. The author also presents some quasi-Freudian speculation regarding the motives behind Cole's behavior, particularly with regard to his homosexual dalliances. I found this armchair psychoanalysis a bit off-putting.

Cole Porter will teach you about the complex man, and imperfect artist, that the titular figure truly was. The copy I read was from 1977, and I don't know if the book is in print any longer, but for Porter fans, it's worth the read if they can find a library copy.

Finding Home is a fabulous book for what it is: a celebratory look at the entire history of In the Heights for fans of the show. The text, which appears to have been written largely by Jeremy McCarter, traces Heights from its genesis as Lin-Manuel Miranda's college project all the way to the production of Jon M. Chu's film version. Interspersed are plenty of vivid, eye-catching photographs, essays by Quiara Alegría Hudes explaining some of her most important contributions, and complete song lyrics with annotations by Miranda. If you are looking for a feel-good retrospective on a show that is already close to your heart, look no further. If you are looking for a critical perspective on the work, look elsewhere. As much as I enjoyed this book, I am interested to continue reading more about Heights from a critical/academic framework.

Ancient Sea Reptiles joins the ranks of numerous other excellent paleontology books released in recent years. Dr. Naish's book goes into relatively great technical detail to explain the evolutionary history, fossil records, and inferred behaviors of all major groups of marine reptiles present in the Mesozoic Era. Naish neither obfuscates his points with unnecessary jargon nor belittles his readers' intelligence by presenting his information in an overly simplified fashion. In other words, while Ancient Sea Reptiles is accessible to readers outside of paleontology, this book (not unfairly) asks a lot of them. It is scholarly and information-dense, not a breezy read, in spite of its deceptively low page count.

Accompanying Naish's text are fabulous illustrations and photographs that allow the reader to more easily visualize the creatures described in the book. The reconstructions do not shy away from from speculative, but plausible, features (e.g., I adore the Suevoleviathan with the colorful tail fluke on p. 111). Where I concur with other readers in their criticism is that more maps should have been included to clarify proposed ranges and migratory routes. For those who enjoy reading scientific journals, the lack of citations is also quite disappointing, and there were numerous typographical errors that should not have made it past an editor.

This is the only book of which I am aware that offers a comprehensive and up-to-date examination of Mesozoic marine reptiles. If the subject at all interests you, this is undoubtedly the text to read.

This is the fourth book by Dr. Ehrman that I have read, and it is certainly my favorite. Jesus appears to be one of Ehrman's first “popular” works, and his prior experience writing exclusively academic works has a pleasant impact on his style here. Of all Ehrman books I have read, this one is the most information-dense. His case is thorough and highly persuasive. Rather than leaping straight to his thesis, the author takes his time to establish his historical methodology and to examine a range of potential sources. Ehrman's meticulous analysis of the Gospels of course forms the heart of this work; I don't think that anyone with an open mind could come away from having read Jesus thinking about the Nazarene, or the religion founded in his name, in the same way as they did before. Jesus is the best book on the subject of religion I have read thus far.

I have read five of Dr. Ehrman's books so far, and Armageddon is certainly not the least of these. Dr. Ehrman provides an excellent analysis of the Apocalypse of John from many different perspectives. Topics covered include but are not limited to:

The contents and symbology of Revelation in historical context
A history of apocalyptic predictions based on misinterpretations of Revelation
Contemporary effects of misinterpretations of Revelation
The genre of the apocalypse and John's inspiration from the Book of Daniel
The ideology of Revelation compared to the ideology of the Gospels
The Christ of Revelation compared to the Christ of the Gospels

I can't do justice to Ehrman's wonderful treatment of the above topics. If you have any interest whatsoever in Christian eschatology, no matter what your personal beliefs may be, please just go ahead and read Armageddon. If you are relatively new to the topic, this book will be revelatory; if you are familiar, I wager you'll still enjoy reading Ehrman's perspectives on the above topics and find many valuable takeaways, even if you disagree.

Luis Enrique es un hombre más maduro, sabio y compasivo de lo que podía imaginar. Sufrió tantas experiencias durísimas, pero al final triunfó. Por lo tanto, su autobiografía resulta ser muy inspiradora. Después de leerla, comprendo mucho mejor, de manera más profunda, las letras de sus canciones. Habla en estas páginas de sus luchas, de su música (por supuesto), y también de su espiritualidad (cosa que no me interesaba tanto como los demás temas abarcados en el libro, pero tampoco puedo juzgar a Luis por plasmar lo que para él es parte imprescindible de su vida).

Una lástima que ya no esté con la novia de la que habla a fines del libro. Ojalá este hombre encuentre el amor que busca.

Para ser transparente, hay algunos problemas con esta edición: el tipo de letra es un poco extraño, faltan tildes aquí y allá, y encontré un par de errores en las traducciones al inglés. Pero al fin y al cabo, este libro contiene los mejores poemas de Pablo Neruda, y sólo por eso no pude otorgarle menos de cinco estrellas. No puedo decir nada original con respecto al poeta; él escribía con una fuerza elemental. Altamente recomendado, especialmente para los anglohablantes que están aprendiendo el español y viceversa. Para mí fue muy interesante comparar cada poema con su traducción.

A lovely and worthy addition to a growing number of excellent layperson's paleontology books released in recent years. The Last Days of the Dinosaurs presents a series of fictionalized scenarios that immerse the reader in various points on the K–Pg extinction timeline. For instance, we follow a Tyrannosaurus specimen before the asteroid impact, then see the world through the perspective of an Edmontosaurus as the bolide hits the Yucatán peninsula, and so on and so forth. The style is reminiscent of a nature documentary, although Black certainly has her own style and tone; the text would feel incongruous if read by, say, David Attenborough. I do find it curious that Black is criticized in Goodreads reviews for employing a speculative, nature documentary-style approach, while other (excellent) authors such as Thomas Halliday are lauded for the same. Black does an excellent job in the appendix of explaining which parts of the book are near-certain and which are more speculative. Notably, the speculative elements are all relatively conservative.

Black weaves a narrative depicting the K–Pg event as not only a time of great destruction, but as a time of growth and recovery. Mammals, non-dinosaurian reptiles, cephalopods, plants, and algae do not go neglected in this telling of the story. While some of Black's prose could have undergone just a bit more revision, make no mistake that this is a worthwhile book that any paleontology fan will enjoy.

Probably better for a fun read than for actually surviving, but there's a surprising amount of good information for such a short/small book. The illustrations are helpful and at times quite funny. I do have some issues with the writing; for instance, the frostbite entry references a return to “pink skin,” which not every patient is going to possess. Still, it's a charming book, and that's what it wants and needs to be.

The Scientist in the Crib is a breezy and accessible overview of the (then) known science concerning the development of the mind in early childhood. The authors' central claim is that babies are much more intelligent than adults assume them to be, and that many infant behaviors are actually the baby's way of experimenting and developing ‘theories' about the world. Chapters are divided by topic, such as children's interactions with other people and language acquisition. Presumably in their effort to avoid writing a book that would intimidate non-scientists, the authors have kept the text essentially devoid of numerical data. While they explain experimental setup well enough, more detail regarding the results of the various experiments they describe would have been appreciated. I agree with other reviewers that the fifth chapter should have been cut; the authors' analogy between babies and computers is somewhat interesting, but the chapter retreads too much material from earlier in the book. The book feels the most dated when it discusses Autism Spectrum Disorder in children, which it describes as a “tragedy” for parents. The only practical advice for parents is found in the final chapter of the book, so the prospective reader should only read this volume cover-to-cover if they are interested in early childhood development for its own sake.

A genuinely fascinating overview of the cognitive science principles that one might exploit (or find troublesome) in the course of learning a language as an adult. Some of the principles are applicable to acquisition of any skill, not just language. While the book provides some actionable suggestions for studying, I would not recommend it if you're looking for a concrete study plan. This text places the onus is mostly on the reader to apply the concepts to their own learning.

An illuminating summary of the development of the Christian conception of the afterlife. Ehrman traces humanity's ideas of the great unknown all the way from Gilgamesh to the first few centuries of Christian thought. Along the way he compellingly argues that theology has demonstrably changed over time in response to historical circumstances. Ehrman goes through the Bible with the eye of a historian, contrasting what he believes Jesus actually preached to the words he asserts were later attributed to the religious leader. The prospective reader should note that the book only deals with the Christian afterlife, as opposed to the afterlife of Islam or other traditions, in depth; there is a brief reference to Egyptian mythology in comparison to the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man from the Gospel of Luke, but that's all we get regarding concurrent religious developments. However, I do not think that the book would have been improved by broadening its scope beyond the author's areas of expertise.

Ehrman concludes Heaven and Hell with a surprisingly touching afterword about his personal beliefs surrounding death. If you are a Christian or ex-Christian, I can practically promise that this book will make you see your beliefs about the afterlife in a new light, whatever those beliefs may be. The author's rare combination of academic rigor and an approachable style makes it very easy for me to recommend this text to anyone interested in religion. I intend to return to this author.

I'll keep it spoiler-free at the risk of being vague.

I recommend going into Cloud Atlas without knowing too much about Cloud Atlas. If you're already familiar with the novel's structure, then Mitchell's repeated, explicit attempts to bash the concept into your skull will be tedious. Nonetheless, there is a beauty to some of the more subtle and nuanced connections between the stories. I don't mean to bash the book with my two-star rating, as I do genuinely believe, in accordance with Goodreads rating guidelines, that “it was ok.”

There is a lot to chew on in Cloud Atlas: religion, immortality, oppression, discrimination, capitalism, metaphysics, and more. (Mitchell has some genuinely interesting ideas about some of these topics.) Plato, Nietzsche, Freud, and Solzhenitsyn are all there too, in addition to other thinkers whose influence I am perhaps too ignorant to notice. It's debatable whether the heavy thematic concepts are a good match for the pulpy or comedic tones of certain sections, but that might be a matter of personal preference. (In different ways Mitchell seems to paradoxically take his concept both too seriously and not seriously enough.) In contrast with my desire for greater subtlety in other aspects of the work, I wish that some examples of prejudice within Cloud Atlas had received more explicit challenges. While the characters' racism is generally addressed, some men in the story express a misogynistic sentiment that in my view Mitchell doesn't adequately explore, in my opinion.

A flawed work for sure, but at least a thought-provoking one. If this “genre” of interconnected storytelling had more time to mature, I wager that it could be a vehicle for some genuine masterworks, but the pool of writers capable of writing in such different styles as Mitchell does is probably rather small. Frustrating in some respects, and not a life-changing work of literature (at least not for me). Perhaps my expectations were too high, but it's a book that has stuck in my mind, and that has to count for something.

A mixed bag.

Lots of legitimately insightful points, particularly regarding how women approach dating and sex differently than men and the evolutionary reasons why. The authors provide actionable advice for how to develop attractiveness, with self-improvement at the core.

Things like the nutritional claims make me doubt the veracity of other claims in the book. Max and Miller say that you should stop eating grains, period. Sorry, but I'm not convinced that if I eat a diet of vegetables, fruits, lean meats, nuts, legumes, etc., that putting my veggie burger on a whole-grain bun is going to harm me in any way. They also advocate for doing weightlifting exercises as fast as possible, which seems like the exact guide for what not to do—slower motions tear muscle fibers more efficiently and therefore contribute more to progressive overload.

(Edit: The more I think about the nutritional advice, the dumber it seems. For a book ostensibly about empowering men to form social bonds with women more effectively, the social function of food is completely overlooked. Good luck trying to date a Hispanic woman whose rice and beans you refuse to eat because Max and Miller told you that grains are a no-no.)

It's worth a read, but you have to assess for yourself what's valuable and what's not. If nothing else, you'll probably finish the book with more consideration of the different factors at play in human courtship. I can also say that I feel that my outcomes are more within my control than I did before—there are many ways for a man to be attractive, and the authors do a good job of demonstrating this point.

A couple of the jokes are home runs, but most are mildly grating. It would have been nice to read a text with similar ideas, but with either a more mature sense of humor or a commitment to a serious tone.

I will give the authors credit for the list of books on human sexuality, which looks quite promising.

A captivating read and a nice counterpart to the standard music history textbooks. Gioia presents a compelling theory about the development of musical styles and argues his case persuasively with regard to each era and style that he covers. Much of the evidence presented is truly illuminating. Who knew that the Lydians and Phrygians were actually ethnic groups enslaved by the Greeks, for instance? I bristled a bit at Gioia's insistence upon the universality of music, but he's referring more to its social functions and patterns of development, not the particulars of any given theoretical framework such as 12TET.The book is not without notable flaws. The testimonial from Fred Hersch at the very beginning boldly asserts that Gioia argues the universality of music from all cultures, which leads one to believe that the book will present a balanced, global perspective. To Gioia's credit, Music is significantly less Eurocentric than many other music history books, especially in the beginning. However, as the book goes on, it increasingly falls into the groove of the conventional European music history timeline. Gioia gives many forms of African-American and/or popular music their due (finally), but the book is only half-committed to the idea of a global perspective. A few references to Rumi or the Shijing ultimately amount to a shallow multiculturalism. The lack of substance with which Gioia discusses Latin American music is striking in comparison to his discussion of certain other topics: references to Sid Vicious abound, yet the words “Cuba” or “Mexico” do not even appear once. A couple of distracting typographical errors made their way into the first edition, and whether they will be corrected in future editions remains to be seen.Nevertheless, I enjoyed Music for what it really is: an alternative Western music history text, [b:A People's History of the United States 2767 A People's History of the United States Howard Zinn https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1494279423l/2767.SY75.jpg 2185591] for music, if you will. It's certainly a hell of a lot more exciting than my undergrad textbook. Because of the vastness of the topic and the relative brevity of the work, many seminal figures within even the Western classical tradition don't receive their proper due, and I'd recommend reading this book as a supplement to more traditional music history material.

Excellent overview of Sidney Gottlieb's life and work at the CIA, including the known details of the MK-ULTRA mind control experiments and various assassination attempts. Kinzer's prose is clear and direct without ever feeling condescending. The book essentially reads like a (gripping and disturbing) novel. Most of the details about MK-ULTRA are found within the first half of the book. However, the subsequent chapters about Gottlieb's other CIA projects, the aftermath of MK-ULTRA, and further developments in Gottlieb's life and American society are interesting as well.

Kinzer does an exemplary job of recounting Gottlieb's atrocities. However, the most unsettling revelation of all is that Gottlieb was not a uniquely evil man; he was an individual whose goals, and willingness to use alarming means to achieve them, were the products of his circumstances. Anybody could have been Sidney Gottlieb. He is all of us, and we are all him.

After my experience with Poisoner in Chief, I am looking forward to reading Kinzer's other books, such as All the Shah's Men and The Brothers.

I picked up this edition for a buck or two at a thrift shop. It contains four stories: A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Tree, Christmas Dinner, and excerpts from The Pickwick Papers.

A Christmas Carol is an absolutely classic and essential Christmas story, and I surely have no novel insight into it. It is unquestionably the best piece of the collection and by itself would have been five-star material.

A Christmas Tree is an essay in which Dickens recounts various details of a Christmas celebration from a child's perspective, including specific toys and ghost stories. While the particularities of a Victorian Christmas are interesting from a historical viewpoint, the essay comes across as rambling and tedious, especially in juxtaposition with the much superior Carol. I doubt I will ever return to this piece.

Christmas Dinner is pleasant enough and only eight pages long.

The Pickwick Papers excerpts are the other highlight of the collection, full of classic Dickensian charm. While the narrative concerning a Christmas wedding is amusing at moments, I particularly enjoyed the ghost story of Gabriel Grub.

This collection is nice on the whole, even if none of the other stories reach the soaring heights of the titular tale.

I went into this book not knowing much besides the title. I expected more of an in-depth examination of the way that music has become gradually devalued in American society. What I got was something much different but highly engaging.

How Music Got Free is one of those books you'd classify as “narrative nonfiction”: it recounts the facts of its subject with fidelity, but it reads like a fast-paced novel. Witt uses the stories of a select few key players in music technology, business, and piracy, respectively, to tell the story of the massive technological and cultural shift in 21st century music consumption. Witt's book did not teach me quite what I expected to learn, but I ended up learning a lot regardless.

The author's background in journalism is noted in the style of the text. Witt balances his wide vocabulary with clear explanations of the topics at hand, including some that are quite technical, such as the compression process used to reduce the size of .mp3 files. The result is a breezy read (I finished the book in about a week) sans condescension.

There are some mildly distracting flaws in the narrative and in its presentation. The author's insistence on providing detailed physical descriptions of the people about whom he writes is a bit jarring and cartoonish. He also takes a few political jabs at various targets—Alan Greenspan, the Iraq War, capitalism itself—and I agreed with all of these jabs, but they felt a bit out of place. I'm entering really nitpicky territory here, but Witt overuses commas, unnecessarily separating two verbs of a sentence when the subject is not restated.

If you're interested in the effect of piracy on the music industry in the 2000s, you won't regret picking up this book. Witt covers the development of the .mp3 as well, but if you are interested in that area, there are probably better texts to reference, as the engineers themselves become minor players as the narrative progresses.

The opening chapters of this book, which truly focus on the development of the electric guitar and the personalities involved, are probably the best narrative nonfiction I have read so far. To hear about the differing opinions and backgrounds of figures such as Leo Fender, Les Paul, and Paul Bigsby, and how those differences influenced their respective approaches to the instrument, was truly illuminating and immersive. Some readers have criticized The Birth of Loud for its focus on relatively technical features of guitar design, but I was living for those sorts of details. I would love to read a similar work that focuses entirely on the instrument development angle, though I understand that such a book would probably be more difficult to market to a general audience.

As Port branches out into the history of rock ‘n' roll itself, The Birth of Loud loses its direction somewhat: many cameos from figures such as The Beatles, Carol Kaye, and James Jamerson are undeniably interesting, but the shape of the narrative grows muddled. I will concede that Port's description of Jimi Hendrix's performance of “The Star-Spangled Banner” at Woodstock was superb. (And it was quite satisfying to read about Hendrix taking Eric Clapton down a peg.)

I love the guitar itself more than I love rock music, so your mileage certainly may vary. If you love both the guitar and rock music, this is the ideal read for you. If you're like me, you'll still have a good time.

A classic of American environmentalism. Carson writes beautifully, using everything from apt metaphors to mythological references to convey the destructiveness of the pesticides that were commonly used in her time. Additionally, she makes arguments from both a conservationist and an economic angle, which should appeal to people across the political spectrum. Silent Spring pays pronounced attention to the insect world and will remain a book of significant interest to entomology enthusiasts.

Carson goes into great scientific detail about the implications of indiscriminate pesticide use. Some of the information is timeless, such as the excellent explanation in the chapter “Elixirs of Death” of how methane is modified to produce other chemical compounds, or the overarching theme of respect for ecology. Some very specific data regarding certain animal populations in 1962, for instance, may not be as relevant to the modern reader. The book is a product of its time, and some of the language has not aged well, particularly regarding people with disabilities.

An indisputably great work, but perhaps not a conventionally “fun” one, although I don't think it has to be. While it's interesting to read about the issues of Carson's time, reading Silent Spring made me more interested in reading about contemporary environmental issues.

Ehrman makes a compelling case regarding the authorship of the books of the Bible that he discusses. I wish he had discussed some of the evidence in greater depth, but this is a book for laypeople, after all. To me, Forged did not reach the heights of [b:Heaven and Hell: A History of the Afterlife|50793705|Heaven and Hell A History of the Afterlife|Bart D. Ehrman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1575812957l/50793705.SY75.jpg|71431323], the other Ehrman work I have read. The tone of Forged is noticeably more strident, and one gets the sense that Ehrman wants to “own” the opposition—I can practically hear the Avengers theme playing in Ehrman's head on p. 130, when he talks about getting his Arabic-speaking colleague to translate a document in order to prove that Pythagoras's students did not attribute their books to their teacher.

It's worth a read if you're not up-to-date on Biblical scholarship. I had no idea of the authorship issues surrounding the Pauline epistles, etc. If you are aware of the scholarly consensus regarding these issues, you may not find many revelations here.